


Deprivation

by coleymeganbell



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Drug Use, M/M, Sex, larry - Freeform, one direction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-01-25
Updated: 2014-01-26
Packaged: 2018-01-09 23:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1152157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coleymeganbell/pseuds/coleymeganbell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deprivation</p>
<p>Summary<br/>Louis had spent most of his life feeling empty; hopeless that there would once be a day where he wouldn't be so different. His whole life he had been pushed around, and for what? Liking the same sex? His family, peers and even teachers found it hilarious to embarrass him for what he was - worthless, ugly, gay. That was until he moved. He got the hell out of Doncaster and ran for the hills. But was to happen to the poor, love deprived boy?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Chapter one

As I pulled Into the car park, I couldn't help but cringe at the run down block of flats. A sigh escaped my lips at at my attempt to reassure myself that it probably wouldn't be as horrific as I expected. Yeah, right.

I wouldn't even have to move here if I wasn't so different - if I just liked girls, then maybe people wouldn't hate me. But even in a big city like Doncaster, I was still degraded for what I was;

A fag

A homo

Queer

The words often rotated in my skull when I was in the privacy of my home, and with every breath I took there was a new carving fixed upon my skin.

I didn't notice I was crying until the warm pools soaked my shirt, suffocating my skin. The sobs that emitted from my throat sent shivers up my spine, awaking me from my state of preoccupation. I immediately scolded myself, knowing that if anyone here found out what I was I'd be even more of an outsider.

Stepping out of my car, I took a deep breath in - hoping it would interrupt the stream of tears descending my face. Realising that it was basically impossible, I charged toward the doors of the stingy old flats, determined to get inside before anyone noticed my fragile state.

The reception was abandoned, and I understood why. With its broken elevator and web filled plants, I got the feeling that the flats above would be worse than I imagined. 

I made my way up the stairs, praying that this was a con, that the actual rooms were royal worthy. A boy could dream, right?

Reaching the third floor wasn't difficult- but what was difficult was trying not to make eye contact with the teenagers loitering in the hallway. I jammed my key into the lock and forced the door open, almost falling to the floor when I could finally get it to budge. Steadying myself, I glanced around the room.

Maybe I should have stayed in Doncaster.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this story. Just a warning there's mentions of self harm in this chapter, so please read at your own risk. Also if you have any constructive criticism it would be greatly appreciated.

Chapter Two

The sound of blaring music interrupted my slumber. As I was just about to scream at my sister for the disturbance – until I realised I was no longer at my beautiful abode. Glaring at the grey ceiling, I contemplated what could be happening in Doncaster; have people noticed that I left? Do they even care? My thoughts were diminished as soon as they entered my mind. _Not now Louis. New beginning, remember?_

Making my way to the bathroom, I attempted to plan the rest of my day, yet the itch to reach for a blade grew stronger. Knowing my sense of discipline was practically mythical, I abandoned my intentions of showering. Once I had relieved myself, I raced out of the flat, not forgetting to grab my phone and wallet – practically my only belongings other than the clothes on my back – and headed for the door.           

 

Tripping over a half-naked girl on the way down the hall, I begged for release that wouldn’t create a permanent feature on my skin.

-          -       -       -

I sat in the small coffee shop, fingers clasped so tight I had no doubt they’d swell soon enough. _It’s not enough._ I ran my fingers through my greasy, unwashed hair, wondering what could be a plausible solution to my dilemma. I’ve tried it all; running. Painting. Even fucking yoga. Nothing. The frustration is so overpowering, so mind controlling. All the times I’ve heard “Why don’t you just stop?” or “There’s no need for that” – nobody understands. They don’t know what it’s like to be your own worst enemy.

 

I jumped from my chair, tears finally leaving my soulless eyes. Spinning around, an extraordinary force hit me. My body flew to the floor, coated in burning coffee. I felt the liquid scorch my skin, searing my flesh. _Relief._ A satisfied smile made its way across my face before I broke from my trance, realising all the commotion the spill had caused. A man was crouched in front of me, panic in worry etched on his face, until he saw a smile engraved on mine.

 

I scrambled to my feet and ran for the door, completely aware of how crazy I must seem. Strolling to my new, unsightly home, I couldn't help but enjoy the throbbing pain that was pulsing through my torso.

 


End file.
